


Father Stannis

by renaissance



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Father Ted
Genre: Blasphemy, Gen, This is ridiculous, please don't take it seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/pseuds/renaissance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ASOIAF/Father Ted crossover, written for the asoiafkinkmeme on livejournal, inspired by the following prompt:</p>
<p>"Stannis, Robert and Renly are not brothers, but three Catholic priests who live on Craggy Island."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father Stannis

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This fic was not meant to get so long. It's not my best work but idk I think it might be funny or something so allow me to present it as my humble offering, the first fic posted on this account.
> 
> Long story short I discovered the kink meme and got a bit too emotionally invested in this one prompt. Sorry for the unimaginative title.
> 
> Feel free to leave me some feedback!

_"Good morning, Craggy Island! You're listening to_ The Crack Of Dawn Show _on Radio Crag, 104 FM, and I'm Tyrion Lannister. A quick look at today's weather - looks like it's going to be another rainy day here on the Island! Watch out for hailstones in the North, and more mud than usual in the West.  
  
"In a minute I'm going to spin you the new Oasis track, but first let's have a listen to 'Songs of Love' by Ben Folds--"_  
  
Father Stannis shut off the radio with the back of his hand. "I hate that song," he said under his breath as the radio went tumbling behind the chest of drawers and landed with a muted clunk, a plume of dust wafting out either side of the chest.  
  
It was, indeed, another rainy day on Craggy Island. Some mornings Stannis looked out the window and wondered what he had done to land up on such a damp rock in the middle of the sea. Was this God's plan for him? The Almighty Father had allowed Coronation Street to run for so long to punish Stannis for sending that letter of complaint to ITV - wasn't that enough? Did he have to be banished to the back end of nowhere as well?  
  
Stannis' customary early morning regret was interrupted by a groan from the chair. Sometimes he forgot that Father Robert was there. Father Robert had been on Craggy Island long before Stannis arrived, but Stannis had never seen him leave that worn out old armchair that looked like his late mother's sponge cake topped with a doily. "Good morning, Father Robert," he said stiffly.  
  
"Drink!" Robert shouted. "Drink" was the first entry in Father Renly's pet project, "An Abridged Dictionary of Father Robert's Vocabulary". Stannis still didn't see how it could be abridged further than Robert's already limited range of terms. Perhaps "drink" was the only word that Renly had included. Stannis wouldn't be surprised. The young Father had the attention span of a chimpanzee with a typewriter.  
  
"I'll tell Mrs. Arryn to bring you a cup of tea," Stannis said. Their housekeeper was a batty old lady who had apparently been pushed out of a window in the prime of her life and lost the capacity to do anything but make tea. It was mediocre tea, but it did the trick.  
  
At the sound of her name, Mrs. Arryn waddled into the lounge room. "Tea?" she asked.  
  
"For two, thank you," Stannis said.  
  
" _Drink!_ " Robert shouted again, as though half of Craggy Island had not heard the first time.  
  
"Yes, Robert, your tea is coming."  
  
The front door swung open with a clatter of wind and autumn leaves, and flew shut again just as voraciously. Father Robert jumped in his seat and muttered something unintelligible as a bedraggled Father Renly shuffled into the living room holding a newspaper. He shook it open and cleared his throat.  
  
"Took you long enough," Stannis said pointedly, before Renly could even open his mouth.  
  
Renly shrugged dramatically. "There were hailstones. I could hardly see the newsagency! Have we got any peaches?"  
  
Ignoring him, Stannis snatched the paper from his wet hands and opened it up. "As usual, no news about the outside world," he said with a frown.  
  
"It's the Craggy Inquirer," Renly said, "what do you expect. Have we got any peaches?"  
  
"Tea!" Mrs. Arryn returned with a yellow-glazed teapot and two chipped cups on a faux-wood tray. Her pince-nez spectacles were fogging up from the steam.  
  
"That doesn't answer my question, but thank you," Renly said, taking the tray from her and setting it down on the coffee table next to Father Robert's chair. Mrs. Arryn nodded and left.  
  
"The tea's for Robert and myself."  
  
"Father Rob doesn't want tea," Renly said with a roll of the eyes, "he wants  _this_!" With a flourish, he conjured a bottle of whiskey from his coat pocket and placed it in Robert's lab. "Here you go, Father. Drink!"  
  
"Drink!" Robert agreed, snatching up the whiskey and taking a hearty swig. As he did, his elbow knocked the coffee table and sent the tray tumbling, teacups and all. The teapot shattered at Renly's feet. He jumped back quickly.  
  
"Mrs. Arryn!" Stannis called out. When she re-entered, her eyes widened at the mess on the floor. "This will need clearing up," he said. "Meanwhile, Father Renly and I will be going out to buy a new teapot."  
  
"Ah!" Renly said, suddenly a bit flushed. "You may not want to... go outside..."

Stannis raised an eyebrow at him. "And why not? I shall go where I wish, thank you very much." He walked to the doorway and pulled on his mackintosh.  
  
Renly followed him, bouncing up and down like a lost puppy. "Yes, but, there's hail, and there really is a lot of mud, and you could slip and hurt yourself, and then who would give your sermons on Sunday? No-one gives sermons quite like you, Father Stannis. I really don't think you should--"  
  
"I think the hail has stopped," Stannis said sternly. Renly clung to his arm to try and hold him back, but it was no use.  
  
Stannis opened the door.  
  
"There he is!" cried a voice from the other side of the fence. Stannis looked down the path to see a small crowd of people huddled under red umbrellas, all dressed entirely in red and waving signs that he couldn't quite make out.  
  
One of the group, a woman in more red but less layers than everyone else, stepped forward and leaned over the gate.  
  
"My friends, behold: it is Azor Ahai reborn!"  
  
Stannis' eyes widened.   
  
"I told you not to go outside," Renly mumbled.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?!" Stannis shouted, walking down the path through the light rain and coming to a halt just before the gate. "Who are you people?"  
  
The red woman ignored him and turned around to her followers. "The Son of Light does not know his own power! But today, R'hllor has smiled upon us! He has delivered our saviour, fire made flesh!"  
  
"For the night is dark and full of terrors!" the crowd intoned. The woman turned back around and pierced Stannis with a glare. Her lips were curled into something resembling a smile. He tried not to notice that the deep red of her lipstick matched the rest of her unholy ensemble.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked again. "State your business."  
  
"I am Melisandre of Anglesey," she said in a rich, melodious Welsh accent. "I am a Priestess of the Church of R'hllor, Lord of Light."  
  
"Well I'm a Priest of the Catholic Church, and you are trespassing on my property!"  
  
"We did not pass the gate," Melisandre pointed out.  
  
"She has a good point there," Renly said quietly.  
  
"If I want your input I shall tell you, Father Renly."  
  
"Stannis," Melisandre continued, "I know who you are. I know that you do not even know your true identity. For you are a prophet of R'hllor, Azor Ahai come again."  
  
"Poppycock," Stannis said firmly. "You shall leave forthwith or I shall be forced to call the police and have you removed."  
  
"Good luck with that," called a voice from the crowd. Upon closer inspection, Stannis noted that it was Axell Florent, the Chief of Police on the Island. Brilliant.  
  
"I think you've got the wrong man," Renly insisted. "Stannis is too boring to be a prophet. I mean, have you heard his sermons?"  
  
"That will be enough, Renly." Stannis hissed.  
  
"I  _have_  heard his sermons, as a matter of fact," Melisandre said. "And his words are the very reason I know him to be Azor Ahai reborn."  
  
"I've had enough of this nonsense," Stannis said, pushing the gate open and shoving past the sea of red. "I'm going to buy a teapot." Renly followed him hastily, securing the gate and offering a quick apology to Melisandre and her followers.  
  
"Why didn't you warn me about those freaks?" Stannis snapped when they were firmly away from the cult at his gate.  
  
"I tried to tell you not to go outside!" Renly whined. "You just didn't listen! You never listen to me."  
  
"I listened to you doing your dramatic reading of those Wham! lyrics and decided never to listen to you again."  
  
"You didn't like Father Renly's Wham! Poetry Slam Night?"  
  
"Not in the least," Stannis said. "Now hurry up. Let's get a teapot and go home."  
  
The rain began to pour more heavily and Stannis pulled his mack closer around him. Renly scowled, but followed him. Like every other walk on Craggy Island, it would be a long walk to the general store, made even longer by muddy hazards and the promise of hailstones.

 

Craggy Island's town centre was not much to behold. It was essentially a hill with a dirt road and three shops - the hardware store, the pub (affectionately referred to by its clientele as "The Kneeling Man" due to an incident involving an infamous porn tape that was once recorded in the pub's very own cellar), and the general store.  
  
The general store was run by Ned Stark and his wife Catelyn, who enjoyed the respect of everyone in town (except the Lannisters, but we don't talk about the Lannisters) and presumably also enjoyed an active sex life, given their ever-growing brood. They were some of the Church's most devoted followers, and like all good Catholics they adhered strictly to the eleventh commandment: "Every Sperm Is Sacred". The latest child was wailing in Catelyn's arms when Stannis and Renly entered the store.  
  
"Morning, Mrs. Stark!" Renly said cheerfully. "You're looking chipper today."  
  
Catelyn gave him a sad smile. "I'm glad that you think so, Renly. I've been up all night with Rickon howling."  
  
"That's a pity. Say, do you have any peaches in stock?"  
  
"I'm afraid not," Catelyn said. "Peach season is well and truly over."  
  
"Ah well," Renly sighed. "We actually came for a teapot. Old Father Robert broke Mrs. Arryn's favourite."  
  
"Poor Robert," Ned Stark said from behind the counter. "I remember him in his glory days. No-one could preach quite like him."  
  
"I never knew him then," Stannis said, feeling just a little out of place. Renly was old Craggy blood, as were the Starks, but he himself was a relatively new arrival. Ten years ago he had come to Craggy Island as a fresh-faced and idealistic priest. The Island had given him a sense of perspective, as well as a healthy disdain for what others deemed "the truth". He wondered if Robert had really ever been a great preacher, or if he'd always been a drunken sod and people had chosen not to notice.  
  
"He was a good man," Ned said in the tone of voice one might use when delivering a eulogy. "I can't bring Robert back to his former self, but I can replace your teapot. What colour were you looking for?"  
  
"The old one was yellow," Renly answered, "but I always thought it was the colour of piss. Let's try something different!"  
  
Stannis frowned. The youth were always on about "trying something different". Next Renly would be donning red and joining the Cult of Light, or whatever those nutters were calling themselves.  
  
As if on cue, Ned pulled a teapot out of a box on the shelf behind him. "How about this one?"  
  
"Not red," Stannis said quickly. "Anything but red."  
  
"Suit yourself; I've got the same in green and blue."  
  
"Ooh! Green," Renly decided.  
  
"Green it is."  
  
With the teapot wrapped up safely under Renly's mack, they bade farewell to the Starks and went back into the rain... but not before Catelyn had promised to let Renly know as soon as they got some peaches in.  
  
"Where to now?" Renly asked.  
  
"Back home," Stannis said gruffly.  
  
"Can I stop off quickly in the hardware store? I've run out of craft glue."  
  
"What on earth do you want with craft glue?"  
  
"It's for Father Renly's Puppetry Party. But since you didn't enjoy my last entertainment night, I don't think you'll be invited to this one!"  
  
Renly sounded for all the world like a petulant child. Stannis shrugged. "Thank you."  
  
The hardware store was not far from the general store, and it was a family business, staffed by brother and sister Loras and Margaery Tyrell. The Tyrells were another old Craggy family, but unlike the Starks they were not the most observant of Catholics, so Stannis was less familiar with them. Renly, however, was absolutely besotted with the entire family, it seemed, and you could see it on his face the moment he walked into their store. He was like a kid in a candy store, or a priest in a cathedral, as Stannis preferred to turn that phrase.

The moment they were through the door, Loras Tyrell greeted Renly with a smile brighter than the kind of sunny day that Craggy Island had never seen. It was so saccharine, Stannis thought he might have to brush his teeth.

  
"Renly! Ah, and Father Stannis. What brings you here today?" Loras' smile wilted a bit when he saw Stannis. They had not been on good terms since an incident involving the "accidental" playing of loud music in the church.  
  
"I'm just stocking up on craft glue," Renly said. "Father Stannis is tagging along because he has nothing better to do."  
  
Stannis bristled at that accusation, but kept his mouth shut. He was in no mood to converse with these flowery pricks.  
  
There was no prick on Craggy Island more floral than Margaery, who insisted on "bringing a bit of colour to the Island" by wearing bright colours and floral prints that blinded the elderly and made her a target for attacks by small birds. It was so futile, Stannis thought. Nothing could brighten Craggy Island, not even a self-important young lady with pretty clothes.  
  
"Maybe Father Stannis needs to buy something for himself?" Margaery asked Renly. "An iron rod, perhaps?"  
  
"As a matter of fact," Stannis said, "I was just escorting Father Renly here so he could buy the craft glue for his puppet show preparations. He gets lost if I let him wander about on his own, you see."  
  
Loras laughed. "I'll bet he does." Stannis did not know what his tone of voice was insinuating, but he was sure it was something equally as sinister as Margaery's patterned pinafore.  
  
Renly picked a tube of craft glue off a shelf and placed it on the counter.  
  
"So Renly, is that cassock-chaser Brienne still after you?" Loras asked, his voice laced with forced innocence.  
  
"I hear she ran off with a Lannister," Renly replied flippantly.  
  
"Literally ran off with him? That's a bit of a change of heart. Lannisters are as far as you can get from the priesthood."  
  
 _That's rich, coming from you,_  Stannis thought, but he kept his mouth shut.  
  
"Not literally," Renly said. "You know what I mean."  
  
"Yeah," Loras said. "But I'm glad that you're...  _free_... as it were..."  
  
When Renly all but fluttered his eyelashes at Loras, Stannis decided it was his turn to intervene. "That's enough, Renly," he said loudly, "did you join the Holy Catholic Priesthood to flirt with boys and build puppets?"  
  
Somewhat abashed, Renly looked away from Loras and shook his head. "No, Father Stannis."  
  
"Good. Now pay for your craft glue and let's get out of here."  
  
Renly avoided catching Loras' eyes as he shoved some money onto the counter and stormed out. Stannis shot a condescending smile at Loras and Margaery before following him.  
  
"What did you do that for?" Renly said. "You had to go and humiliate me in front of my friends, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes," Stannis said. "You were behaving like an idiot! What was I supposed to do, let you flirt with that Loras fellow?"  
  
"You could have minded your own fecking business!"  
  
"I'm not in the mood to argue," Stannis said brusquely. "Let's get a pint each and forget about this."  
  
There was a pause before Renly nodded. "Alright."  
  
The pub was back towards the general store, on the way home. Stannis tended to avoid entering it on all costs, and not just because of its seedy reputation. His main reason to avoid that pub was its proprietor, a lady of absolutely no propriety whatsoever. Cersei Lannister.  
  
Cersei Lannister had been the bane of Stannis' life ever since he arrived on Craggy Island. She had publicly opposed all of his public decency petitions, and flaunted her contravening of the Lord's most basic teachings. It was common knowledge that her devilspawn (or as she called them, her "children") were fathered by her twin brother Jaime, but no-one had any proof, and due to their father's wealth, the Lannisters were above the law.   
  
But he really, really wanted a drink.

The Kneeling Man was dark inside. Dark like Cersei Lannister's soul. The devil herself stood behind the counter, polishing a beer glass.

  
"Well, well," she drawled, "if it isn't everybody's favourite Fathers."  
  
"I'm not here to exchange words with you, Lannister," Stannis said. "I'd like a pint of lemonade, please."  
  
Cersei laughed. Her laugh sounded like a cat meowing into a fan and having its voice distorted. "And for you, Father Renly?"  
  
"A pint of lager, thanks."  
  
Stannis shook his head. The boy was veering dangerously close to incompetence in his priesthood. If he didn't watch his habits he would turn out like Robert, living in his chair and shouting for a drink every time he deigned to wake up.  
  
"So I heard a group of loonies have taken up residence outside your house," Cersei said as she pulled Renly's beer. "What do they call themselves, again?"  
  
"Something to do with light," Renly said. "They're claiming Stannis is their prophet reborn."  
  
Again, she made that dreadful laughing noise. "You ought to take up with them, Stannis. You'd have a better shot at glory than with your Catholic bunch, that's for sure."  
  
"I'm choosing to ignore that comment," he said.  
  
"All I'm saying is, if you have to give your life to a church, might as well be to one that worships you as their leader."  
  
Stannis was ashamed for the thought that flicked across his mind, for the momentary consideration. Could it be that Cersei Lannister was making a good point? It was no secret that Stannis had always desired power in the church. When he was younger, he had declared himself the future Pope and set about reforming his community church. It was probably that attitude that got him shipped off to Craggy Island in the first place, but he refused to think upon that point. It was his duty to serve the church, and he would gain nothing by taking up with a ridiculous cult.  
  
"I don't hear you disagreeing," Cersei said, placing the priests' drinks in front of them.  
  
"There is a difference between disagreeing and refusing to engage in conversation," Stannis said through gritted teeth.  
  
Cersei glowered at him. "You've always been a nuisance, Stannis. Excuse me while I cease to engage in conversation with you."  
  
"Be my guest," Stannis said. He gestured to the general surrounds of the bar. "There are other people here to feed your appetite for attention." Turning to Renly, he added "Let's get a table."  
  
He did not wait to hear whatever comeback Cersei might have had up her sleeve. The table he chose was near the window, so he had the sound of the pouring rain to distract him from the banality of his present company. Renly joined him and sighed. "I almost feel sorry for her. I mean, her boyfriend left her for a girl something like ten years younger. Surely that's a blow to her pride."  
  
"Her  _brother_ , not her boyfriend," Stannis corrected. "Do not speak of that foul incest in my presence."  
  
"Right," Renly said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, my point was she's an emotional wreck."  
  
"She may be an emotional wreck, but that does not excuse her from being evil incarnate." Stannis was sick of thinking about the woman. He gulped down his lemonade in a few quick swigs and then stood up. "Come on. Let's go home."  
  
Renly finished off his pint and nodded.  
  
The walk back was never as harsh as the walk there. The rain was harder and the sky was darker, but it was mostly downhill, and Stannis almost found himself looking forward to the red cult at his gate, if only it meant that he would soon be closer to a warm cup of tea and something decent on the telly.

In fact, the mob were still there in full force, soaked under their umbrellas but persistent. Stannis could see their bright red attire from almost a mile away. As soon as they noticed him approaching, their shouting started up again. "Azor Ahai reborn!" "The Chosen One!" "The night is dark and full of terrors!"

  
Stannis shouldered past them with Renly at his heels and ignored them as best they could.  
  
"I have seen it in the flames!" Melisandre called after him. "You will lead us to victory!"  
  
He almost laughed.  
  
Inside the house it was cool, like someone had left the windows open. Renly seemed to notice it too, and exchanged his mack for a warm coat that hung by the door.  
  
"It's a bit drafty," Stannis mused aloud. There was a crash from the lounge room, and Stannis strode in to find the window hanging open, curtains billowing and a vase cracked on the floor. He groaned. "Mrs. Arryn! Come and clean up this mess."  
  
The housekeeper was there within seconds, tutting at the shards of china, the spreading pool of water and the newly homeless flowers.  
  
Stannis turned his attention towards Father Robert. "Ned Stark tells me you were once a great sermoniser, before... all this. Is that right?"  
  
Robert opened one eye and stared at Stannis. "Drink?"  
  
With a sigh, Stannis pointed to the coffee table. "Your whiskey is over there."  
  
Renly patted him on the shoulder. "It's hard to watch, isn't it?"  
  
Stannis swatted his hand away. "Yes. It is not pleasant."  
  
"I'll go see what's for lunch," Renly said.  
  
It turned out that "what's for lunch" was microwaveable pasta bake. It had a grey tinge and was not very appetising, to say the least. Stannis spent the rest of the day trying to forget it.  
  
After lunch he again braved the crowd of cultists to make his way to church. He tried not to let the shouts of "You are the prince who was promised!" and "Join us, lead us!" get to him.  
  
This afternoon he was hearing confession.It was the usual set of stories: adultery, masturbation, substance abuse. Still no-one confessing incest. They would have to come one day, though. No-one could stay so impious for so long without their conscience catching up to them. Could they?  
  
The procession of confessionals left him exhausted, more so than usual. On his way out of the church, he stopped to watch two teenagers consecrating their "friendship" in the organ pit (which was really more of a fenced area next to the Casio than anything else, but he did like to think of it as an organ pit nonetheless), and didn't even bother to tell them off. It would have taken too much energy. He took the long way home despite the rain and entered via the back gate to avoid the cult.  
  
Father Robert was still asleep in his chair, and Renly was upstairs working on his puppets, no doubt, so Stannis was left to brood on his own. He wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the dining table across from Mrs. Arryn, who was sipping a cup of tea.  
  
"It's hard being a priest," he told her. "You're obliged to uphold the moral standards of your community, but how can you do that when they won't listen to you? You try to set a good example, but they're too busy playing with themselves to pay heed. You try to display righteousness, but it's so hard when there's so much wrong in the world. I'm beginning to wonder if... if there's not a better way to bring good to the world."  
  
Mrs. Arryn stared at him. "Tea?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, a cup of tea would do nicely, I think."  
  
Renly had come down from his room, and he peered into the kitchen. "I'm going to microwave myself some stroganoff and pop on Coronation Street. You watching?"  
  
Ignoring him entirely, Stannis stood up and silently walked past Mrs. Arryn, past Father Renly and past Father Robert, and flung open the door.  
  
"Azor Ahai reborn!" Melisandre yelled. Her people took up the cry. The sun was setting, but Stannis could still make them out in the darkness. He held out one hand and they silenced immediately.  
  
"I am Azor Ahai reborn," he proclaimed loudly. "The night is dark and full of terrors," he continued, "but with me as your leader, there is no need to fear."  
  
The crowd cheered and took up a cry of "Stannis! Stannis!", with Melisandre's voice coming through the loudest.  
  
 _I could get used to this_ , he thought.


End file.
